Locked Door
by deepdarkdepps
Summary: Sam goes looking for answers to questions that should never be asked.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone

I wrote this story under the premise of what would happen if Sammy went down a road, looking for answers, where would it lead him, and he soon finds out that some questions should never be answered.

R&R greatly appreciated, as well as any constructive criticism. As well, I have open office, which means my spell check doesn't work, sorry for any spelling mistakes,

The first chapter is humorist, it will get darker down the road. So, why not start it off on a lighter note.

* * *

Dean knew this was a good idea, watching his little brother chug the last little bit of beer, his third one, he just couldn't help but smile.

"Chu-baby chu." Dean said smiling, peeling the label off. His eyes wondered to the piece of tale that just walked past the brothers.

"What?" Sam looked behind him when Dean didn't answer.

"Nothing little brother, you just keep chugging those Millers, but that is what I'm going home with." He stood-up, and attempted a B-line straight for the tank top and tight skirt.

"Your not going home with anybody, as much as I like you not to come home with me. We're leaving tomorrow, and your not slowing us down with little Miss. already got 6 numbers." Sam retorted, then went for more beer, when there was none left, he scrunched-up his face, closed one eye and starred down the empty brown bottle. How did he finish it so quickly? He hadn't even noticed how much he had to drink.

"Dude, take this totally the wrong way, but I'm sick of going home with you. I need a pair..." He made a pair of breast with his hands "And I need to put my....."

"Dude, TMI!" Sam shivered.

"TMI?"

"It means too much information." Said drunkily. Dean wanted to laugh, but he was just too horny, and needed to ditch his brother as quickly as possible.

"I know what it means, since when do you know it means?"

"Since I started reading your chat history." Sam let slip, he covered his mouth when he realized what he had done.

"You've been reading my chat history?" Dean said nervously, he knew he wouldn't be able to live this one down.

"Uh-mmmmm.....you say some funny stuff." Sam started to laugh. "My loins burn for you..." Sam laughed more, Dean quickly looked around, he could see some of the women over hearing his very loud brother.

"Let's make sweet, sweet passionate love." He continued to mock and laugh, he fell off his chair.

Falling hard onto the ground, he continued to laugh. Dean mearly shook his head and picked Sam off the ground.

"Your a funny guy." Sam swayed, Dean still holding on steadied him.

"Let's go, your drunk and you ruined my fun." He grumbled.

"Did you drink my beer? It seemed to just vanish." He closed his eye and looked into the bottle again.

"No, you did that all by yourself."

"I don't want to leave, we should do something fun. Llllike limbo, or strip poker...." Sam gasped. "I know, karaoke." Dean smiled, eyeing the karaoke machine.

"I think they have karaoke."

"I believe I can fly." Sam began to sing. "I believe I can, wait, your trying to trick me are you?"

"No never."

"That's a double negative. You are trying to trick me. You can't trick me, I went to Stanford, I'm know how to use my smarty pants brain." Sam picked-up his jacket, and clumsily put it on.

"I'm leaving, and I don't want to go home with you." Sam announced very loudly. "Just so all you ladies know, this guy, has slept with a lot of women.....I'm sure he has something. Like a kid." Sam stumbled out of the bar.

Dean watched him for a moment, he looked around, thoroughly embarrassed, he smiled at the pretty ladies, he tried to come up with an excuse, but just gave-up and followed Sam out the door.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets the cold air blew harshly against his bare skin. In his haste Dean forgot his jacket, stopping two feet away from the door, he turned around and went back into the bar to retrieve it. He could hear a couple of very attractive women giggling, they were starring at him, no doubt at his brother's very loud declaration.

Pulling the jacket around his large frame, he shook his head, this bar had an uncanny, unnatural selection of hot, Brazillian/Swedish/Italian hybrid of super hot, supermodel-esque hot chicks. Damn that Sam.

Walking further down the parking lot, he pulled the zipper all the way up, he didn't remember it being this cold, he thought as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. One good thing about Sam getting drunk would be the morning after, Dean smiled, he'd already pulled the greasy pork sandwich in a dirty ashtray trick. His grin grew in reminisce of one of the few times Sam had gotten plastered.

His smile dissapeared quickly, he wondered why Sam was drinking. It was unusual to see his little brother get drunk, it was unusual for his little brother to let his guard down, it was really unusual for Sam to break into his MSN account. A greasy hamburger with bacon and a fried egg on top, yep, right after Sam goes and throws up into the toilet, he would whip out his burger, with extra onions, and a side of chili cheese fries.

That's when he heard a noise, a growl, it was deep and spoke of a unsatiable hunger. He pressed a hand against his stomach, maybe he would make a pitstop for some fries with ketchup and mustard.....extra mustard. He pulled out his keys, shivering, he thought it would be a good idea to get some coffee as well.

Raising his head he could see Sam sitting on the cold, wet ground, he shook his head, and mumbled, now he would have to pick Sam off the ground again.

"Get-up Sam." He shouted as he walked towards the Impala, Sam was gripping his stomach. He didn't respond.

"If ya'gotta hurl, do it now.....in the bushes, no where near my baby." Dean commanded, Sam looked-up at Dean and collapsed onto the ground. "Sam." He waited for Sam to say something, he bent down, Sam's hand fell limp onto the ground it was covered in blood.

Dean pulled Sam's jacket quickly, a 2-inch knife wound, he put his hand against the wound, Sam began to cough, spitting up blood.

* * *

Bobby quickly read the numbers on the doors as he walked down the corridores, he hated hospitals, he hated the sanitized, ammonia smell, sickly people, nurses who no longer wore those cute and sexy uniforms, doctors who gave him a grave look and a 'I'm sorry' bullshit too many times.

He hated the sound of his shoes squeeking against the linonium flooring, he hated people knowing he was coming, he hated the clean, pristine sheets, he hate how cold it was, no matter how cold it got in South Dakota, hospitals were always colder.

He quietly opened the door, a large blue curtain covered the beds, 4 four in total, two on the right, two on the left, all of which were covered by the blue curtain. His shoes squeeked, he bit his tongue, he knew he was disturbing the patients.

"Sam?" He tested. Dean poked his head out, they acknowledged each other with a nod, Bobby squeeked over to the last bed on the right.

"Hey kid, howz it goin?" Bobby put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Lost a spleen."

"No big deal." Sam raised an eyebrow. "Didn't need it anyways."

"That's what I told him." Dean had a white paper bag in his hand, he went through it, pulling out a greasy hamburger and promptly took a bit, smiling with a mouth full of food. Both Bobby and Sam just shook their heads.

"You do need your spleen, it's a resorvoir of blood, it stores it, and it.....oh...."

"I'd move if I was you." Dean warned, pulling Bobby out of the way just as Sam hurled onto the floor.

"Ew!" The older hunters said in unison. Dean put his burger away.

"I'll get the nurse." He ran out before Bobby could object.

"Sorry." Sam managed.

"It's alright kid."

Five minutes later Dean returned with an orderly, they had just walked to the curtain when they heard Bobby yelling.

"Boy! As your late daddy's friend I outta give you five across the eyes." Dean pulled the curtain across.

"What the hell is going on? He just got stabbed and your threatening him with violence." Dean said sternly.

"Did you hear the reason why he was stabbed." Bobby said heatly.

"No, I..." Dean tried to answer the question, but Bobby interrupted.

"He got some chick pregnant." Dean stumbled backwards.

"That'll do the trick." The orderly said as he passed Dean. The patient beside Sam started to laugh.

"I didn't get anyone....he merely accussed, key word, **accused** me of getting her preg-preg...that, that word."

"Pregnant, knocked up, PG, end of your life...." The orderly started as he sprinkled a powder onto the ground. The patient next to Sam laughed again.

"Dude, do your job, stay out of our personal business."

"Great job getting me a private room Dean." Sam grumbled.

"It wouldn't be an issue if you had used a condom Sam." The patient next to Sam was now laughing histarically, crying out in pain every so often.

"I didn't get anyone." He took a deep breath, trying to grasp the thought of getting some girl pregnant. "I don't know this chick, this guy who I've never seen before just accused me of getting her preg-preg-that-tht...uh"

"Here Sammy." Dean pulled out his wallet, slipping something out. "Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Happy Birthday." He said as he handed Sam a condom.

"I hate you." Sam grumbled.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everyone, sorry this took so long, i moved, my comp broke down, we got a new one, and then i had to majorily revamp my originial idea. it wasn't sitting well with me, and i had to re-think it.

As for this chapter, a lot of weird, strange, OMG!! sort've things will happen in this chap. I know it will see very off, even some of the sequencing maybe a little strange, but i needed to get a lot of things out their, and wanted to get out in this chap.

R&R greatly appreciated

**Chapter 2--A Series of unfortunate events**

* * *

Sam was lying on his hospital bed, grumbling at the return of his nausea.

"I'm tell ya'man, DNA will save ya." Said Jeffrey, the patient next to him, Sam, of course didn't solicit his advice. Jeffrey merely opened the curtain and started in on how having a kid was the beginning of the end. At first Sam didn't believe it, then Jeffrey, who was about a few years older then Sam, started re-enacting child birth, the baby latching on.

"Once your name is on that birth certificate, that baby becomes a ball and chain. Whether it be youz baby or not." Sam was getting pale.

"I think I'm going to throw-up." He announced as Jeffrey started to explain how the cervix dilates. Thankfully, Bobby had walked in just in time to help him, then closed the curtain on Jeffrey.

"If you want to know more, I can get my girlfriend to bring the tape of her in labour. Maybe my wife will bring her tape too." He said through the curtain.

"I'm going to kill Dean."

"You look like shit, kid" He put a hand on his head "Your burning up."

"I haven't been feeling too good. Nausea went away for a while, but...." He motioned towards Jeffrey.

"I think the doctor lost his watch inside of me." Bobby gave him a sideways look.

"Come on, no one looses things inside of people....anymore."

"Doctor made a crack about loosing his watch.....he looked nervous."

Bobby was going to tell Sam it was nothing, when Dean came in, he looked proud of himself, as if he just discovered plutonium, well, with Dean more like the Brazillian porn channel.

"You'll never believe what I've been up to."

"Reading." Sam quipped.

"I read all the time."

"Hustler isn't reading." Dean shifted, not feeling as proud of himself as before.

"That's not what I've been doing. I was doing math."

"You know, it ain't nice to lie." Bobby said in a fake stern voice.

"I don't lie," He took a beat "Not now. No, I did the pregnancy math. Guess where we were 7 months ago."

"Over staying your welcome on my couch." The boys gave Bobby a strange look.

"I thought we never over stayed our welcome." Dean said surprised.

"Not when your acting like a pair of pestilent teenagers." Jeffrey burst out laughing again.

"Oh, okay, next time you need help with your inventory, we'll be 'conveniently' working." Dean said bitterly, he thought he could do no wrong when it came to Bobby, even when he called him princess.

"What the hell are you talking about? What pregnancy math?" Sam was anxious to hear what Dean was talking about.

"We were here. Working, a poltergeist." Dean whispered the word poltergeist, knowing Jeffrey would be listening. "You met that pretty girl, you were drunk." Sam looked at him for a moment, 7 months ago? August? Poltergeist? pretty girl? His face went even paler, he shifted away from Bobby.

"I....I....didn't....." Before Sam could finish his sentence he closed his eyes, falling unconscious.

"Sam?" Dean raised an eyebrow, was he faking to get out of the questions. Bobby nudged him, there was no response, the machine's monitoring Sam's vitals started to beep. Dean ran out to get help.

Sam's doctor quickly came running, another doctor, and two nurses followed behind. One of the nurses gently pulled Bobby out of the way, the two men watched as they injected medication into his IV, took blood from Sam's arm, and talked in what seemed like a foreign language. Eventually, Dean and Bobby were forced out of Sam's room, he looked paler as they worked on him, his vitals were falling. As Dean was pushed out, he saw Sam's doctor shove a tube down his little brother's throat.

* * *

Dean stood 10 feet away from Bobby, who was talking to two uniform cops, he shook his head. Those damn bastards, his brother was in the ICU, in critical condition, and the pigs want to play 20 questions. The taller of the two gave Bobby a card, he nodded at them, and walked away.

"What the hell do the pigs want?" Dean almost yelled, he bit his lip.

"Interesting story, the guy who stabbed Sam, get this, Herbert Hoover, was found dead." Bobby didn't want Dean to know, but his stomach was churning, he wanted this son of a bitch to pay, but what the cops told him, it made his skin crawl.

"Let me guess, they suspect everyone's favourite Winchester." Dean crossed his arms around his chest, his leather jacket moaned with the movement.

"No, they don't suspect Sam, they suspect you." Bobby smiled.

"Oh! Funny. Pauly Shore called he wants his sense of humour back."

"Seriously, Dean, this is bad. Sweet talked the cops into spilling how the guy died, they said his skin was ripped off his body, in one piece."

"Sounds pleasant." He couldn't help the smile, he enjoyed the fact this man suffered, his brother might be dying, he deserved everything he got.

"You don't understand Dean, I mean, his skin, and the rest of his body were ripped apart, there were no cuts, no rips, nothing, they don't even know how it happened. Are you getting me...." He looked around, shifting uneasily, he could feel his blood boiling.

"This sounds like a demon Dean." He couldn't believe it, but his breath was coming in heavy, his fists were balled up, he just wanted to hit some thing. Bobby knew this wasn't the solution, he had to stay sharp, this was a demon, making a move on Sam, possibly making a move on this girl, maybe on Sam's unborn baby.

"Alright, we'll take care of it." He walked down the hallway, stopping in front of Sam's door, he opened it, and gazed at Sam's still body. He still had a high fever, his skin was a sickly, pasty white. He had a tubes up his nose, and he was awake. Dean walked over to him, and sat down beside him, he started to cough.

"I see you finally got me a private room." Sam coughed again, it was dry, and his lungs acked when he inhaled.

"I didn't. Your not doing so well, you've got flesh eating disease."

"Am I going to die?" Despite his profession, he truly never thought he would say those words at such a young age, he was only 23, it wasn't long ago he was planning his whole life with the woman he loved, how far he had fallen.

"Not on my watch." Dean said sternly.

"What are you going to do? Stand guard at the gates of the hospital, forbidding death to come and get me. Flesh eating disease, I have flesh eating disease……" His breaths were coming in short, it hurt even more to breath, he coughed more, he was now gasping for air.

"Bobby.." He ran for the door, but Sam called out.

"I'm fine." He coughed more "How did I get it." Dean pressed his lips together making them a thin line, the answer to that question really infuriated him.

"You got it from the hospital. You were suppose to get better, not worse." The boys were silent for a moment, Dean got a heated blanket from a heating wardrobe and placed on Sam.

He could hear Sam's labouring to breath, the lines on the heart monitor was a pathetic state, they seemed like they were having a hard time trying to keep up. Sam turned to Dean.

"Do you…..? Do you think I'll see mom? Do you think she made it to heaven?" He gasped through the sentences, a tear ran down his face.

"I know I'll see Jess, I can't wait to see her." He weakly smiled, he had began to forget what her blue eyes looked like. He already forgot what her skin felt like, what her perfume smelled like, the sound of her voice.

I have to go, we need to….we need to take care of a few things."

"Dean, I'm dying." Looking into Sam's eyes, his blood shot eyes, they were burning red against his pale, greyish skin, he shivered slightly. Dean put a hand on Sam's arm

"Your not dying, they have you on medication, everything will be okay, I promise." He hated promising Sam that he would be okay, truthfully, he wasn't promising Sam anything, he was promising himself that Sam wouldn't die, that he wasn't abandoning his brother on the icy grips of death.

"What's so important?" At that precise moment Dean saw a look he hasn't seen in almost two years, the look of anger, grief, and the unmistakable sense of abandonment.

"I'll be back." He turned around and left, not even allowing anytime for arguments.

Hours later the two hunters grumpily walked back to the hospital, they hated coming back empty handed, they hated that something maybe after Sam, and having no idea what it was, or who it was. Dean had the usual suspects on his short list, the yellow eyed demon, possibly one of his minions, Meg? Was she a possibility? Demons did crawl out of hell, it wouldn't be too far fetched to believe she had some kind of revenge plan.

All of a sudden "I made it through the rain" was playing in the air, Dean paused, searching, he realized it was coming from behind him, from…Bobby? He removed his phone from his pocket and went to answer it. Dean mouthed the words "Barry Manillow?" In turn Bobby gave him the middle finger.

Dean turned around, and entered Sam's room, where Sam sat-up happily eating Jell-O. He had his colour back, his eyes were no longer blood shot, he looked healthy as a horse, and as hunger as one. Eaten, and discarded food bits, crumbs, a half-eaten drumstick, and containers were littered on his tray.

"Sam?" Sam looked-up.

"Hey Dean." He scooped up more Jell-O, his doctor had a puzzled look on his face as he went through Sam's chart. Dean walked to Sam, no, his doctor looked freaked out.

"Your……okay?" Was as much as he could muster, he really couldn't manage anything other then that.

"Healthy as horse, strong as an ox." He said, then went into a coughing fit "Almost." He chocked out.

Dr. Taylor turned his attention to Dean, he didn't like the look this man was giving him, he not only looked freaked, he looked angry.

"I don't understand, you…were really sick." Dean was dumbfounded, how was this possible?

"I don't know what happened. One moment I'm really sick, I'm dying, then…." Sam fell unconscious, Dean looked at Dr. Taylor who had a syringe in his hand.

Dr. Taylor looked at Dean for a moment, his eyes went down to his amulet, now he looked even more angry.

"Are you a Wiccan?" He asked Dean flatly, the question was quite odd, it came across as more of an accusation then a question.

"No, I'm not." Dr. Taylor's eyes went back to the amulet.

"Into Occult?" Now he was seething at the mouth, his arms crossed, his bicep muscles bulged through his coat.

"No! Why the hell are you asking?" Dean crossed his arms around his chest, his bicep muscles bulging through his leather jacket.

"People don't just recover from flesh eating disease in a matter of 2 hours. In fact, your brother should be dead, twice over."

"Excuse me!" Now he wanted to kill Dr. Taylor, he knew what the doctor was insinuating.

"Your brother flat lined, that's a fact, we did CPR on him for 20 minutes, he should be brain dead. Then the flesh eating disease, and the high fever, he should have been dead 2 hours ago."

"You sound disappointed, maybe we should get another doctor, one who isn't disappointed his patient lived." He grabbed Dr. Taylor by the collar, he was yelling now. Gripping Dean's wrist, he removed the younger man's grasp on his shirt.

"I'm not disappointed, more worried. You don't know what your messing with, you could really get hurt. I hope he was worth selling your soul."

"I'm a hunter you moron."

"So you hunt animals, what does that have to do with your brother's 'miraculous' recovery? It doesn't matter, I'm releasing him tomorrow, I don't want to see either one of you idiots here. We don't need your kind."

He left, walking down the hallway he eventually came to an exit, shivering at the bitter cold of February, Friday the 13th. He looked-up at the overcast of grey, seemingly unforgiving sky, no sun, no light, there was just a shadow, a fog that escaped his lips, a black hole that encompassed this town. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his cigarettes, he didn't know that Dean had followed him outside.

The overcast shifted, pulling away leaving a seamless, crystal clear blue sky, the sun shone, but gave no heat. Dean watched him intently, then to his surprise a bolt of lightning struck the doctor. It was endless, it pounded him merciless, until his body caught on fire, falling on to the ground lifeless as his body quickly burned into ashes.

Dean froze, looking up at the sky, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, he squinted at the sun, until the overcast covered the sun up again. His gaze went back to the doctor and his warning about the occult.

* * *

The next day:

"What do you mean he's dead?" Sam stood in the bathroom, button up his shirt.

"I saw it with my own eyes Sam, he was hit by lightning." Dean found himself yelling, trying to convince Sam, but it was so unbelievable that he found he needed to convince himself even more.

"In the middle of February, in southern Michigan…..how's that possible?" Sam walked out of his bathroom, sitting on a chair he started to put his shoes on.

"I don't know, but we've got a long list of weird coincidences. The guy who stabbed you, he's dead, his skin was ripped off his body, in one piece, no marks, no cuts nothing. Dr. Taylor accused me of being a Wicca, and then he is burnt worse than that turkey dad made that Thanksgiving. Then there is the fact that your alive, I mean, I'm happy your okay and everything, but something weird, our kind of weird, is happening here."

Dean rubbed his forehead, he felt exhausted just thinking about it. He watched his little brother as he tied up his left shoe, he shook his head.

"You think that's weird, I've got one, it'll make your skin crawl. Jeffrey, your roommate, apparently a bird flew into his room, pecked his eyes out, he's dead." Bobby had been quiet, the story he heard from a pair of nurses had unravelled him.

"What?" Sam stood-up, the guy was a bit annoying, but having his eyes pecked out by a bird. HeS could feel his stomach churning, he didn't tell Dean, but something was wrong here, he felt it the moment he came back into town. Something was different, he remembered coming here months ago and having the same feeling, now it was more prevalent, now he knew for certain something just wasn't right here.

"That's not even the worse of it Sam, they opened him up, they found the bird, still alive, and nothing else. The damn thing pecked his entire organ system."

"He had a wife, kids, oh my god what are they going to do?" Sam asked, he felt bad for the man, he was young, and he had a family, he knew personally what it was like to loose a parent, a father.

He went to the wardrobe, opened his duffel bag and pulled out a flask and quickly drank from it.

"Don't you think it's a little early for that?" Dean barked at him, Sam didn't hear him, he could feel a lead weight in the middle of his chest, it hung low, it was a psychical burden on Sam, one that wasn't easily remedied by words, or alcohol, but the alcohol seemed like the more desirable route.

"I hate to bring this up, but I gotta go boys." Bobby said, he seemed nervous, he stroked his beard and shifted. "I'm being audited."

"That's great!" Dean exclaimed, he had wanted to come up with an excuse to get Sam out of town, an audit, right up Mr. Mathlete's ally.

"How's that great Bobby hasn't filed in ten years."

"Twenty, but who's counting?" Bobby corrected.

"Mr. Stanford here will assist you in not going to federal prison." Dean beamed as if he already won the argument.

"Your trying to get rid of me."

"No, no I'm simply trying to remedy my good friend's situation in his time of need." Dean still smiled like a bronze medalist that thinks he won gold.

"Your trying to get rid of me, but I'm not leaving my kid." Sam quickly looked at his feet, he let it slip, he nervously fidgeted.

"Your kid? I thought you said it wasn't yours" Dean was blindsided, he wasn't expecting his little brother to confirm his suspicions.

"Well, I mean, maybe, I, I, you….you said I was here 7 months ago. I don't know for sure, but if it's true I can't leave it."

"Sam."

"Don't Sam me! I can't leave this child, if it's mine, this baby has a part of me inside of it, the good, the bad, and the ugly. The powers…..I just."

"Fine." Dean grumbled, he watched his little brother get the rest of his things together, as they walked down the hallway, Sam sensed something leering at him, a cold, angry presence, he looked back and saw an old man.

He was short, his skin was wrinkled, pasty white, his eyes were a pale blue, almost grey colour. His teeth decayed and rotten, were a putrid yellow, his body hung low in a hump, and he stood with the help of a cane. Sam looked at him, the old man sneered at him.

_I know who you are, boy!_

He said without moving his lips.

_Do not think you can hide from me._

He turned around and slowly walked away, turning a corner. Sam chased after him, making the turn right after him, he found nothing, he turned back to Dean and Bobby, who were still walking down the hallway, none the wiser. Sam took one last look down the hallway the old man went down, feeling uneasy, there was something here, something has always been here.

Two weeks later, Sam was sitting in the most remote part of the library. A stack of book stood unsteadily to his left, he took a deep breath and threw another book onto the pile. He rubbed at his tired eyes, a series of deaths had marred this town and it wasn't just at the hospital, there were no pattern, the victim-logy was sporadic at best, and it seemed that each death was more bizarre, more gruesome then the other.

A woman with a very large baby bump walked towards Sam.

"Hey Sam." She smiled, checking out his very large stack of books.

"Hey Mrs. Robinson, how's the baby?" He smiled back at her.

"It's good, how's the reading." Sam chuckled, it seemed like the only thing he could do, he was at his wits end with the series of deaths.

"Did you….?" He hedged, anxious to see if the librarian he befriended could help him in finding the girl, and his baby.

"Oh, yes. It pays to have only one obstetrician in town, and yes, it's her." He let out a deep breath. "Which is strange."

"What is?" He got an uneasy pit in his stomach, he dreaded any bad news that might be coming.

"She doesn't seem….your type." Sam lowered his head, confirming her suspicions that it wasn't just a one night stand, but a drunken one night stand. "Anyways, I got Kim's number, she definitely wants to talk to you."

"So, you laid it on thick." He smiled at her, his dimples made her heart sing, she could see what Kim saw in Sam.

"Like mayonnaise." She handed him the paper, said goodbye and left. Sam pocked the paper and noticed something on the bookshelf, something he hadn't noticed before.

Standing-up he walked over to a very old, large, dusty book. He pulled it out of the bookshelf, he opened it, it was written in what looked like a mixture Latin, and Greek. The two languages seemed to marry into each other.

He read the title of the book; Unto the world is my wraith. He scrunched his face, and closed the book just as the sound of yelling, gunshots and screaming echoed through the library. He jumped, then a bullet ripped through the bookcase, hitting him in the head, he fell to the ground. Panting, he realized he wasn't hurt badly, putting a hand to the side of his head, he was only grazed.

He put the book into his duffel bag, and rounded the corner to see a man stalking the aisles of the otherwise quiet library. Shooting more people, Sam followed him as he raised the gun to a couple of children, the young hunter leaped forward pinning the man to the ground.

The man was strong, they struggled for the weapon, the man hit Sam with the bunt of the rifle knocking Sam out, then shot himself in the face. Killing almost everyone in the otherwise quiet library.


End file.
